Why Don't You Do Right?
by meatkat
Summary: Maura gets to be a bit of an exhibitionist at the local jazz bar and Jane's a little more than enthralled. Based on the super sexy jazz staple and inspired by Jessica Rabbit's version of it. Currently a one shot until I can come up with something better. Loving the reviews though.


**So this one's been stewing in my head a long while now. It's based (loosely?) on Jessica Rabbit's memorable little ditty from "**_**Who Framed Roger Rabbit",**_** which kind of cemented in my head the idea of Maura as a sultry jazz singer.**

**I have no regrets.**

* * *

She inhaled deeply to allow the mix of tobacco, sweat and perfume to go straight to her head.

The gentle clink of glasses and quiet conversation welcomed her into the jazz club. Just as much as the woman by the door who smiled as she eased the heavy coat off her shoulders.

_Maybe when she finishes her shift... _The detective wondered absentmindedly as she loped towards the bar. She shot the woman a quick glance. _Maybe..._

The first act was winding up, she judged by the soft thrumming of the double bass. The pianist's hands flew over the black and ivory keys playfully before coming to a complete halt. The drummer hit his snare one final time with a smug look on his face.

She positioned her long frame onto a stool and nodded at the bartender. "Hey, Toni." She lifted a slender finger to request her drink.

"Heya, Jane! How you doin', detective?" Toni exclaimed as he poured amber liquid into an exquisitely cut glass and pushed it across the bar. The ice cubes gleamed enticingly in the light.

Jane accepted it gratefully. The cool glass soothed her lips while the liquor burned satisfactorily down her throat.

Toni asked about the arrests she had made that week. Double homicide. Shoplifting casualties. "Nothing big," she concluded.

"Figured Friday night would be a good time to drop by for a quick drink." She lifted her glass in acknowledgement.

Suddenly, the club lights dimmed. The staccato of polished shoes accompanied the rustling of evening suits as men began to shuffle towards the stage.

"Hey, check it out," Toni pointed towards the source of attention. "I saw her rehearsing and, oh, you're gonna love this one, Janie."

A hush descended upon the crowd. Patrons sat in near darkness, save for the single beam of light directed at the centre of the curtains.

"Just like all the others," he whispered. She fingered the rim of her glass thoughtfully.

The dark curtains opened slightly, parted by the tip of a black stiletto. Straps wound around the base of a pale foot that had just exposed itself.

Then a supple calf inched its way through.

A bare thigh brushed just past the edge of the curtain.

Jane's own thighs clenched involuntarily. Attention now piqued.

With a casual toss, the stiletto came off.

"_You had plenty money, nineteen-twenty two," _began a female voice. The double bass slid from one note to another.

"_You let other women make a fool of you."_ A trumpet voiced its pleasure as another stiletto joined its abandoned twin onstage.

"_Why don't you do right-"_ the thigh pushed the curtain aside to reveal a woman tightly sheathed in a strapless red number. Jane saw that her earlier actions were made permissible by a dangerously long slit that ran right up to her hip. Coppery strands of hair fell around her bare shoulders. Hands encased in black evening gloves rested on voluptuous hips.

Jane lifted the trembling glass to her mouth. She swallowed more than what was necessary.

"_-like some other men do." _A predatory smile graced the singer's red lips, pleased with her open-mouthed audience.

Jane blinked. "Who," her voice dropped an octave as she nodded towards the stage, "is she?"

She rose from her chair.

Toni shook his head and chuckled knowingly. "Everyone calls her Maura. She's way outta your league, Rizzo-"

Jane was at her table by the stage even before the bartender could finish. The steady beat of her heart outpaced that of the drums.

She sat, enthralled, as the woman sauntered down the platform that ran through the middle of the club. Every step exposed the length of her perfect leg. The spotlight followed each sway of her hips.

There was a man occupying the table at the end of the platform. Upon reaching it, the woman carefully adjusted the slit in her dress to allow herself to step onto the tabletop. She never missed a beat.

She lingered there, surveying her perfectly silent audience through hooded eyes, before placing one dainty foot on the remaining space on the man's chair. Right in front of his crotch. She bent over him, singing all the while.

"_Why don't you do right, like some other men do?"_

Her hand caressed the man's face with a gloved hand, the tip of her pointer finger coming to rest daintily on his forehead.

"_Get outta here," _she pushed his head back. _"Get me some money, too."_

The singer stepped down from the chair and prowled towards another patron.

Jane watched from two tables away.

The next victim, a dapper young thing, couldn't believe his luck when the woman placed herself on his lap. He strained against his dark suit. The impulse to touch her was immediately halted by mesmerizing hazel eyes.

"_You're sittin' there and wonderin' what it's all about," _she crooned. The woman lifted his chin and gazed at his face. Red lips slowly closed the distance between the two. _"You ain't got no money, they will put you -" _She stopped, just shy of his open mouth.

"-_out,"_ she whispered the last word into it.

"_Why don't you do right, like some other men do?"_

The singer stood up. Hazel eyes met a pair of dark ones staring at her through long tendrils of black hair. A pink tongue parted her maddeningly red lips.

She waltzed over and rested her hip against Jane's table. Bent over it. Propped herself up by the elbows. From the dip between two warm swells of flesh rose clean notes of lavender. Jane resisted the urge to cup a breast and devour the source of the scent.

"_Why don't you do right," _the woman purred as her fingers snaked their way up along Jane's tie. They reached the tight knot and grasped it firmly.

The woman's bare back, revealed by the cutaway dress, did little to abate the growing heat between Jane's thighs. The apex rested just above the woman's tailbone, taunting her.

She knew the rules.

_No touching, _hazel eyes confirmed. But her fingers twitched anyway.

"_Like some other men..." _Jane felt herself being dragged up from her chair. _By her fucking tie. _She was determined not to moan, yet she was barely strong enough to hold herself up. The singer watched for a reaction.

_Think I'm gonna give something away? Like hell I will. _She gripped the sides of her chair with white knuckles. Her face remained impassive.

As though she could read her mind, the singer yielded. They broke eye contact.

"_... do." _She finished with pursed lips, letting the soft material slip away from her fingers as she stood upright.

She made her way back up the stage amid the applause. The band played the last few bars to match the frenzied crowd.

Jane collapsed back down at the bar. Out came a breath she didn't know she withheld. "Gimme a double."

"Outta your league," mouthed the bartender.

"Fuck off, Toni." The detective agreed with him, if only for a second. "I'm calling it a night."

The woman at the door slipped her coat back on for her. She stepped out onto the pavement and thrust her hands into her pockets, protecting them from the cold. Her fingers caught on a piece of paper. She took it out and unfolded it.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself. -_M. _"

The detective grinned.


End file.
